


Senses

by aravenwood



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Danny Whump, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt Steve McGarrett, Sensory Deprivation, Torture, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: When a twisted form of torture leaves Danny vulnerable, it's up to Steve to get them both to safety.





	Senses

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this is sort of a new fandom for me. I mean, I read fics now and again before but it's only been in the past month or so that I've actually considered myself part of the fandom as opposed to just reading fics every now and again because I like the whump. But yeah, it's always exciting to start getting fic ideas for a particular fandom. For me that's sort of a sign that I'm officially part of it now. 
> 
> Sorry, rambling. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I've been loving reading fics for this fandom so much that I wanted to give it a shot myself. The characters might be a little out of character, I tried my best plus a good friend of mine who's been part of the fandom for a while helped me out. You know who you are. Thanks so much for your help! 
> 
> You've probably had enough of me rambling, so down to the story. I hope you like it!

In four days, they hadn’t once removed the hood from over Danny’s head. Steve didn’t realise this until he did, and suddenly he was fixating on it. Danny hadn’t seen light in four days, hadn’t taken an unobstructed breath, hadn’t been given anything to eat or drink, hadn’t been able to speak or look Steve in the eye and know that he was going to get them out of there. He had to be terrified under that hood. Steve could see it in the way he held himself whenever he was conscious; shoulders hunched and heaving, head hanging against his chest as he trembled from fear and weakness and exhaustion. Steve at least had the comfort of seeing him move and knowing that he was alive. Not Danny though. Danny didn’t seem to have any awareness of the world outside that hood – he wasn’t responding to Steve’s shouting or the brutal words thrown his way by their captors. He only reacted when they hit him or shocked him or tried to drown him in that hood.

The last one was the worst. Steve had known from the moment the bucket was brought in what was going to happen, and he’d fought so hard against the chains on his wrists that his shoulders were screaming from the pain. The bastard holding the bucket sneered at him, then kicked his feet out from under him. His wrists strained under the weight of his body. He focused on breathing through the pain and on getting his feet back under him, trying to ignore how close his shoulders felt to popping out of their sockets. His head hung low on his chest as he fought to regain his breath and get past the shooting pains up and down his arms and back. One of the men grabbed him by the hair and forced him to watch as Danny’s chair was tilted back and the bucket of water was poured slowly over the cloth hood.

For the first time all day, Danny reacted. His entire upper body thrashed and he tossed his head from side to side like he could dislodge the hood and escape the torture, but there were ties on the bottom which were secured around his neck. The ropes sliced into his wrists, drawing blood from the wounds already there. He was making a horrible noise; something between a scream and a gurgle, muffled by the hood and what Steve guessed was a gag of some sort. Whatever it was, it hadn’t stopped the water. He could imagine it soaking through the cloth gag, telling Danny’s body that he was drowning, dying, that he couldn’t breathe. Danny’s struggles were so desperate to start with, the noises so pitiful that Steve ignored the threats thrown his way and started to fight again. No matter how hard they hit him he kept up his struggles, even when all of the water was gone and Danny fell limp, only the tiny muffled whimpers telling Steve that he was still alive. Their captors pushed his chair forwards so violently that it continued to fall when all four legs hit the ground, and he crashed headfirst into the cold concrete floor. The whimpers fell silent and no amount of shouting from Steve got a response.

Before their captors left them alone, one of them undid the chains on Steve’s wrists. He didn’t explain why, didn’t say a single word. He once more kicked Steve’s legs so that they buckled, then unlocked the shackles and left before Steve could attack. Left on the ground, Steve spent a few minutes rubbing his wrists and carefully circling his shoulders until the muscles unclenched and the slightest movement didn’t bring the same excruciating pain.

“Danny?” he called as he struggled to his feet. The other was silent but his body shifted a little as he appeared to regain consciousness after his most recent trauma. His chest heaved with each gasp but he offered no response to Steve’s call, not even a moan, and that left Steve wondering if they’d truly broken him, if he was so deep in his fear and pain that nothing else mattered to him. They’d been so brutal with him that he had to be in a lot of pain, and he wasn’t trained to deal with this, shouldn’t even have to deal with it because at the end of the day he was just a detective. A member of Five 0 but still a detective, and detectives shouldn’t have to deal with torture.

Steve staggered to Danny’s side and started to pull on the ties which kept the hood in place. The body beneath his hand flinched even when he offered up his own reassurances, telling Danny that it was only him and that he was safe and that the bastards would never touch him again. His words went unheard as Danny continued to struggle weakly, whether to get away or fight Steve didn’t know but it made him move faster, loosening the last knot and lifting Danny’s head from the floor with one hand. The hood was sodden as he pulled on it, and his mind offered up the images of Danny’s waterboarding. His stomach churned and he swallowed thickly just so that he wouldn’t throw up over himself.

Danny’s face was slowly revealed as the hood was pulled away; blood and bruises on his chin, duct tape over his mouth, more blood over his sunken cheeks…thick black ear protectors taped to his head, deafening him to his surroundings.

Four days with a hood over his head and he hadn’t been able to hear a single thing.

Steve tore the hood the rest of the way off and started to pick at the duct tape holding the ear protectors in place. His hands trembled with rage and he had to stop just to calm himself down or risk making this an even more painful process than it had to be. It was bad enough already as he tore clumps of hair out with the tape, each pull eliciting another muffled gasp from Danny. Every flinch had him wishing that there was another way, or that there was someone else who could do this. Danny’s eyelids started to flutter, then opened for a second before he hissed and squeezed them tight shut once more, the room too bright after so much time in darkness. With them closed, he could have no idea that the pain was a necessary evil. He tossed his head from side to side, struggling even as Steve tried to hold it in place. His nostrils flared with each panicked breath but even while he was so clearly afraid he didn’t stop trying to get away. Steve’s heart swelled with pride for his partner’s defiance even in his current condition.

As the last few millimetres of tape came away, Steve tore the ear protectors from Danny’s head and started work on the tape over his mouth. It was easier this time, but still brought with it a few gasps and struggles, and even when it was gone Steve found a dirty cloth forced between Danny’s teeth. He pulled it out with one hand and grimaced as he tossed it into the corner of the cell. The other hand lingered on Danny’s cheek, stroking little circles with his thumb in the hopes that the gesture would provide a little comfort and at the same time encourage him to open his eyes once more. They’d been fluttering on and off since opening for the first time, like he was determined to know what was going on but couldn’t quite make himself deal with the pain yet. Steve couldn’t blame him for that, but he needed to make sure Danny knew that he was safe and wouldn’t be trying to fight while they escaped.

“Danny,” he whispered, “open your eyes babe, look at me.” He kept his voice in the quietest whisper he could muster, painfully aware of how sensitive Danny’s ears would be. Even so, Danny flinched and his hands twitched in their bonds as he tried to cover his ears before he caught himself. His eyelids flickered a few more times, then they parted and suddenly he was squinting at Steve with teary grey eyes which seemed barely aware of their surroundings. “Hey babe,” Steve said, offering Danny a soft smile and wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb. He waited for Danny’s eyes to open more or regain a little focus, but when neither happened he couldn’t say he was surprised. Honestly, he was probably lucky that Danny was as conscious and coherent as he was.

Danny let out a low moan and his hands started to twitch again, followed by the rest of his body as he fought to escape the ropes holding him to the chair. His muscles strained even as he whimpered through bouts of pain, then winced at his own noises. In short, he was panicking and that was just making the situation worse for himself. Every shallow breath caused another wince and Steve was sure that pain was the only thing holding back a panic attack. His mind was stuck on the idea that he was trapped, causing his claustrophobia to flare up. It had probably been doing that for days with the hood so tight and constricting. Steve reluctantly pulled away from Danny and set about sitting the chair upright once more so that he could get to the ropes more easily. The loss of contact had Danny’s panic worsening; gasping for air and pulling against the ropes until he bled.

“Hey!” Steve called quietly, taking Danny’s face in his hands and forcing him to look right into his eyes. “It’s alright, okay? No freaking out on me, I need you right now. Okay? Can you do that?”

Danny bowed his head, taking in several big breaths of air all the while his lips moved silently like he was talking to himself. Steve couldn’t figure out what he was saying and honestly, he didn’t need to know as long as it was calming him down. Finally Danny lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s and nodded slowly. “Then hurry up and get me out of these ropes,” he croaked, his voice cracked and weak.

Despite Danny’s clear struggle to speak and to keep his eyes open, Steve grinned. “Sure thing, Danno,” he said. Danny’s eyes narrowed in response, which only made Steve’s grin widen. If Danny was coherent enough to be annoyed then he was coherent enough to escape with Steve, even if he would probably need help every step of the way. With newfound confidence and optimism, Steve turned back to the ropes and began to untangle them from around Danny’s wrists and ankles, ignoring every hiss or flinch when his fingers brushed a particularly raw wound. Every single bruise, every open wound was stored in his brain and he knew that he would have no problem killing every one of the bastards who had caused them.

As the last of the ropes fell away, Danny lifted bloody hands to his face and covered his eyes, leaning his elbows on his knees and bending forwards with a hiss as sore ribs protested at the slow movement. He looked like he wanted to cry, trembling from stress and pain and fear, but as Steve placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Danny flinched away. When the ex-SEAL opened his mouth to apologise, worried that he had touched a wound, Danny hissed through his teeth, “I suppose you have a plan?”

“Of course I do,” Steve lied, not bothering to hide the concern in his expression while Danny couldn’t look up from his hands. He tried to focus on the confidence from before, reminding himself that Danny would make it with his help. But he could only make it if Steve came up with a plan.

His ears picked up footsteps and voices from the hallway outside their cell. He needed to come up with something fast.

Scanning the room, his eyes landed on one of the lengths of rope still covered in Danny’s blood. He picked it up in one hand, then turned to Danny. “Listen Danno, I have an idea. But you need to do exactly what I tell you,” he ordered. When Danny nodded, Steve manhandled him out of the chair and onto the floor, then sat down next to him. He pulled Danny’s head onto his knee, then moved his hands so that they were loosely covering his ears. “Act like you’re in pain.”

Danny snorted. “Not an act,” he mumbled. Steve watched him push down harder on his ears, lift his knees closer to his chest and roll his head until his face was pressed against Steve’s stomach. It was just a little too convincing to be an act. Clenching his jaw, Steve took the rope in both of his hands and wound the ends several times around his hands until it was taut between them. He hid his hands under Danny’s stomach just as one set of footsteps in the hallway grew louder while the other grew quieter. He stared at the door as it opened.

Their captor’s eyes flashed with amusement as they twitched between the two of them on the floor. They lingered on Danny, lips curling up into a sneer. There was a pipe in his hand and as he stared almost hungrily at Danny’s curled form, his grip tightened. Steve forced himself to stay calm, to focus on his act and bide his time until the bastard was within reach. All he had to do was wait. He tensed though as the captor approached, dropping into a crouch just out of reach and poking Danny in the base of his spine with the edge of the pipe. Danny flinched and buried his face deeper in Steve’s stomach.

“Hey!” Steve hissed through his teeth, keeping his voice quiet like he was afraid that it would hurt Danny. Just another part of the act, he told himself, definitely not a real fear.

But their captor noticed how quietly he was talking and the way Danny was clutching his ears, and he smirked. “How’s our guest of honour feeling?” he shouted, drawing another flinch along with a low whimper. Steve growled and glared, but that only drew out a loud laugh and another poke, this time to the back of Danny’s head. It sickened Steve to see the way their captor took such obvious pleasure from Danny’s current sensitivities.

“Try that with me, I fucking dare you,” he growled, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Come on then, do it.”

But the man didn’t approach. Without ever losing his smile, he reached over and buried his fingers in Danny’s hair, dragging him away from Steve. Steve fought the urge to lunge after him and instead focused on keeping the rope hidden. Not yet. He couldn’t risk screwing this up and losing the chance to escape – Danny couldn’t survive much more of this.

The bastard dropped the pipe and dragged one of Danny’s hands away from his ear. He lowered his mouth so that it was less than an inch from Danny’s cheek. “How does it feel to hear again? I bet you miss the silence,” he shouted. This time there was no doubt that Danny’s pain was real. His body thrashed as he fought to escape, his hand being held away from his body straining with the effort of getting back to his ear to protect it from further noise. Their captor stared at him, eyes bright and filled with joy. But in doing so, he stopped looking at Steve.

Steve lunged. In one quick move he had the rope around the bastard’s neck and pulled it tight until it was choking him. He listened to the desperate wheezing, gritted his teeth through the pain of blunt nails scraping across the backs of his hands. He couldn’t even look for Danny, too focused on ending the life of the man who had been so cruel to his partner. He hoped that it fucking hurt.

He kept up the pressure as the struggles slowed and finally ceased, and there was the heavy weight of a corpse on top of him. He pushed it away. “You okay, Danno?” His eyes found the other man still on the floor with his head bowed, arms hanging loosely around his knees. He had his eyes closed and he was breathing very slowly and carefully like he was trying to stay calm. The skin around his eyes was bright red and Steve could just imagine him rubbing at the area over and over to get rid of the pain. He winced in sympathy and reminded himself to try and keep quiet – although he wasn’t sure how easy that would be in the escape. Especially when he found a gun holstered on the body of their captor. He glanced nervously at Danny, imagining the pain which would come with every gunshot.

He had to do it if it meant that they could escape.

“Danny.”

Danny flinched but looked up with his eyes narrowed in a squint. He glanced briefly at the dead body, then at the gun in Steve’s hand, and his eyes flashed with pain. He evidently knew just as well as Steve did how much pain it would cause.  But he tightened his jaw and started to breathe through his nose, pushing away the pain which Steve knew had to be building the longer he was exposed to noise and light.

“Danny,” Steve said again, “we can put those headphones back on you, it’ll block everything out and stop the -.”

“No.”

Steve frowned. There was strength now in Danny’s voice that had been missing, the effect of it only slightly lessened by the flinch which came with the volume. “It’ll be easier, the last thing we need is you being knocked down by pain while we’re being shot at -.”

“Seriously, Steven? I’m not doing it so just…put them away…please?”  His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and fear flashed in his eyes. His hands, normally so active with even the shortest of sentences, hung loosely in the air, a light tremor drawing Steve’s attention. Ever since he’d first noticed how Danny spoke with his hands more than he did his voice, he’d been unable to go a single conversation without staring at them. Seeing them so still now told Steve that Danny really wasn’t ok, and that making him relive his own torture was only going to worsen things.

He sighed and shook his head, massaging his temples and wincing as he hit a bruise. “Alright Danno, we’ll do it your way. But stay close to me and don’t you dare fire a single shot of your own, you hear me?” he grumbled. He expected Danny to protest but he didn’t, just stayed quiet for several seconds.

“Thanks,” he finally whispered.

Steve grunted in response.

Danny climbed to his feet, swaying back and forth a couple of times as he stood upright for the first time since before their capture. He shrugged off Steve’s supportive hand only to stumble on the first step. When Steve caught him by the arm and dragged it over his shoulder, Danny didn’t protest, although he did sigh loudly in the other’s ear. Together they stumbled out of the cell and along the hallway, Steve with the loaded gun at his side. Danny had his eyes open but they were narrowed and his whole body was tense as he prepared for the inevitable pain of a gunshot.

When the first shot echoed through the narrow hallway, he let out a choked scream and almost fell, Steve barely able to keep him on his feet. His free arm flailed as he rushed to cover his ears, but with his other arm thrown over Steve’s shoulder, one ear was still exposed to every single shot. Steve forced himself to ignore that, to focus on aiming and firing at the two men around the corner who would kill them given the chance. It wasn’t easy, especially with the way Danny was shaking and struggling to reach his other ear, accidentally nudging Steve several times and forcing him to readjust his aim. It was the clumsiest gunfight he’d ever been involved in, but when the second man hit the ground, Steve let out a long sigh of relief and turned his attention back to Danny who actually looked ashamed of himself.

“You okay?” Steve grunted.

Danny nodded once, lowering his hand and letting his arm hang loosely at his side while the other fell limp over Steve’s shoulder. “I uh…” he started, but then fell silent and bowed his head. Steve didn’t know for sure, but there seemed to be a few stray tears on Danny’s cheeks. He didn’t know if was from the pain in his ears or humiliation from his reaction, but Steve decided against saying anything. It would only lead to awkwardness or arguments, and they couldn’t afford to deal with either of that when they were still in serious danger. Instead he just readjusted his grip on Danny and set off once more in the direction the men had come.

Several more times they found themselves caught in a gunfight. After the first time, Steve stopped trying to keep Danny close and upright and instead allowed him to slide to the floor with his hands curled protectively over his ears. It was easier to shoot like that, now able to keep hands on the gun and reload when he had to, and the men went down much quicker. It also meant that there were fewer gunshots, so less pain for Danny. But it was almost frightening to see his partner like that, in so much pain that he couldn’t even try to help. It was out of character and it was making Steve feel a little sick. He never said a word about it though, and looked pointedly away when Danny struggled back to his feet in the hopes of preserving his dignity. They would never talk about this again, and Steve was glad for it. He didn’t know what he would say anyway.

Everything seemed to take a turn for the worse when Danny didn’t get back up. He was curled against the wall with his knees raised and his chin hanging against his chest, and he seemed to be falling to one side. Steve dropped to one knee and caught him by the shoulder, pushing him back upright and searching for any signs of awareness. But it seemed that Danny was completely gone, his breathing soft and shallow and his brow furrowed from pain even in unconsciousness. There was a thin layer of sweat over his skin but he was shivering. Steve swore. Shock. As if things weren’t urgent enough already. He glanced at Danny’s face, then leaned back and peered around the corner. A single body was sprawled across the hallway, blood all around from a wound to his chest. There was no way he wasn’t dead. Steve had to protect Danny and the best way he could do that was by finding somewhere for them to hide out. But first he had to make the call and he was sure that he would find something of use on the dead body.

Steve ran for the body, patting every pocket until he found what he was looking for and then heading back to Danny. He glanced down at his partner and promised quietly, “We’re going to get out of here,” even though he was sure that the other couldn’t even hear him. Turning back to the phone, he dialled Chin’s number and waited impatiently for the man to answer.

“Hello?”

Steve choked out a sigh of relief. “Chin, I need you to track this phone call and send units and an ambulance. Danny’s down and there are still men around here,” he said quickly, all the while glancing around them, painfully aware of how vulnerable they were to attack in their current position.

“Got it, Steve. How’s Danny? You said he’s down, but how bad is he hurt?” Chin asked calmly, the clatter of keys echoing in the background.

As Chin spoke, Steve climbed to his feet. With the cell balanced precariously between his ear and shoulder, he bent to pull Danny to his feet. “I’m not sure yet. He was up and talking before, and I want to get him somewhere safer before I take a closer look.”

Suddenly there was the sound of a gunshot and pain exploded in his side. He grunted and clutched at his side, the phone clattering to the floor. Steve didn’t bother looking down, knowing already what had happened.

He’d been shot.

Without thinking he lifted the gun and fired at the man who approached, looking long enough only to check that the shot had been a killing one. When he was satisfied, he finally moaned quietly and slumped against the wall, sliding down next to Danny. The other hadn’t even twitched at the commotion and Steve knew he should be concerned. He checked for a pulse, making bloody fingerprints on Danny’s neck, and almost choked on relief. He let his head fall back against the wall and realised only then that Chin was still on the line, his voice an inarticulate squeak from the cell on the floor. Pressing one hand against his wound and the other fumbling for the phone, Steve pressed it to his ear.

“Make that two ambulances.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve’s memory of the events which followed was choppy at best. One second he was in the hallway trying to patch up his own wound, then suddenly he was in an ambulance with someone asking him questions and insisting that he stay still, but he had to get to Danny because after all he’d promised the other that he would get out of there but for all Steve knew he was still in danger. He fought against the hands holding him down, pushing one of the EMTs away and stumbling out of the ambulance, one hand wrapped loosely around his wounds. He made it only a few steps before his knees buckled and he fell. Then suddenly he was being pushed along in a gurney, a flood of activity around him, voices calling out different things which he couldn’t pay attention to no matter how hard he tried. His vision was blurred and he felt sick watching faces dart in and out of view, of the occasional flash of light as his gurney was rushed through the hospital. They rattled through another door and suddenly the world went still. The voices were still just as loud, but there were less of them now and only a single face leaning over him. He tried to meet their eyes with his own bleary ones, but the world blurred in and out of focus and all he could do was squint at them. It was too bright. Was this how Danny felt?

Danny.

He started to push himself into an upright position, but hands on his shoulders easily held him down. Tossing his head to the side, he pushed against the hands but the pain in his side grew worse in an instant and he wasn’t quite able to hold back a moan.

There was a prick in his hand and a few painful minutes later, he drifted once more into unconsciousness.

The final time he awoke, there were no voices for him to follow but there was a beeping that after so many times in hospital was familiar to his ears. Nonetheless he groaned, wishing that they would turn the damn thing off and let him sleep. Of course it didn’t though – it never did. With another groan, he rolled his head to the side and pried his eyelids apart, squinting at the momentary darkness while his eyes adjusted. As his vision cleared, his lips twitched into a smile at what he saw.

Danny was slumped on a chair at the side of the bed, his head bowed and his eyes hidden from view by a pair of dark wraparound sunglasses. He looked better. Not much, but he’d regained a little colour and his cheeks were a little less sunken than they had been. He had a pair of earbuds in his ears, the wire running down to his leg where it hung there unattached to any device.

Steve waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Peering more closely at him, at the soft, shallow breathing and slack features, Steve realised that he was asleep. He smiled fondly at the sight and sunk back against the pillows, sleep closing in once more. His muscles fell limp, his eyes slid shut.

Finally they were safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
